Showing Up

I’ve been rather absent for the past three weeks, at least in this space. COVID-19 showed up for a close family member so it has been all-hands-on deck for a few weeks now.

Yet, here we are. A new year, another moment in these particular days that we may not be liking so much.

What I don’t like so much now and maybe in the past as well, is there seems to be this one way to be. A particular way to show up in the world, in any given moment. Whether in times of crisis or just the regular days of work, being part of a family, in relationships, or on my yoga mat.

“This, … is the way it’s to be done. This, … is the way to show up.”

Fortunately, or unfortunately for me, I was never much good with the status quo. At times I can tune in to this quickly. On other occasions it takes a long while before I get the sense that what might be well and good for one, doesn’t feel quite right for me. I’m hoping that as I head into my 60th year on this planet the gap between the two is shortening.

There is always a message, a signal trying to capture my attention and act as a guide. The harder part is listening. Even harder is acting on it.

Why is that?

Well, there does seem to be a cultural or societal expectation to go along with the crowd. We look for cues outside ourself. What is the other person doing, saying? How are they responding? From a young age we’re often taught to fit in. Be nice. Say yes. Maybe don’t say anything at all. Grin and bear it. Smile through the pain or discomfort. Do what others do. Again, “this… is the way to show up”.

Yet times are changing. A slow but forward motion allowing for difference. Celebrating it, even. This might be in terms of looks or gender but also a general movement to change other beliefs. That it might be okay to express who we are. What we feel. What we believe. How we see the world, that what we feel in our own uniqueness, matters.

As I think about another year’s passing what is becoming clearer to me is, there is only … right now. Now is the time to show up.

Which doesn’t therefore mean, my way, is the way. It doesn’t mean anyone or anything else is wrong. It’s only that what will be right and well for one, is not the same for another. Funny enough last year I created an online program exploring just that. It’s interesting to notice that often what I teach, is what I most needed to learn for myself.

Here’s what I’m learning these days.

It can be useful to have a place where I can simply show up with whatever I feel, wherever I’m at. Happy smiley faces not required. That in this New Year I don’t have to be better, more enlightened, 10lbs lighter, happy, smiling, fit or always be in a good mood. Trying to sustain all that these days might be quite a challenge.

That I have permission to do, be, what feels most right.

Maybe the same is true for you.

“Are we there yet?”

squishedSummer has officially begun and soon many will be on their long-anticipated holidays. Most likely, it will involve some travel. And at some point the dreaded ‘are we there yet?’ You might think it to yourself or maybe your little travel companions repeat the phrase. On the hour. Time seems to drag. on. forever.

Why is it we dread the getting to, and coming back from, our trips?

Sure there can be unexpected delays or surprises that inevitably happen. But typically it’s the thought of sitting in our vehicle driving for 4, 8, or 12 hours to our destination. Or being crammed into the airplane for hours on end. Uncomfortable, to be sure. Not only being seated for so long but also waiting to eat on someone else’s schedule or getting to the bathroom when the need arises.

Most of us sit, for hours, all day long. Why then, does it feel different or more noticeable when we’re traveling? In an airplane, it’s not so easy to move around, to shift in our seats, when discomfort arises. In our cars, perhaps it’s a little easier with more room and not so many eyes watching us.

On most any day, we tend to listen to the hunger and thirst signals our body sends us, while other ‘discomforts’ such as simply moving, tend to be ignored. Why do we respond to some and not to others?

Which discomforts do we choose to tolerate? 

Little kids fidget, move, express themselves all the time. Until they’re told not to.

How might it feel …

to move and shift, and stretch and dance as you like, when you like? As you feel the need or desire to do so? At any time. Any place. Before, the discomfort pretty much commands that you do so?

When you are uncomfortable, how do you respond? Do you respond?

Hmmmmmm……